


Crimson Scraps

by PoppyCrowns



Series: Consecrated Memories [1]
Category: Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: Drabble Sequence, Future Fic, Original Character(s), Other, Post-Silent Hill 3, Post-Silent Hill 4: The Room, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27882666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoppyCrowns/pseuds/PoppyCrowns
Summary: After their own encounter with The Order, a pair of survivors decide to ensure that no remnants of it are left, so nobody else suffers like they did. But human faith is a powerful thing that can prevail for a long time, and leave everlasting marks in its wake.Will they manage?A collection of scenes meant to act as prelude for an upcoming bigger picture. Some kind of Readable Teaser (R.T.?) if you will, though maybe the bigger picture won't get cancelled here.
Series: Consecrated Memories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2109765
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8





	1. Small Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> Around ten years ago I wrote some Silent Hill fanfiction that was undeniably awful and has been haunting me for years. As an avid fanfiction writer and huge fan of the series, I just felt terrible for not trying to write something better to show my appreciation, so I decided to go for a little test run. I'm not very confident but hopefully these are better than the cringy earlier stuff, at least in comparison. Enjoy!
> 
> PS: This is a pretty personal project that includes a few original characters that were part of the original stories, but are now rehashed to make this one work, because I hold them dear. If you don't like original characters intertwining with canon ones and having central roles, these drabbles aren't for you.

It was a pretty decent looking house. It had a nice light blue color and a fancy little garden on the front yard.

"...They haven't had any more trouble with the building since, though." continued Douglas, as the door actually opened and the couple came out "They just moved together because she got pregnant."

And there was, indeed, a smaller figure with them. A child no older than three, perhaps four years old. The woman, _her mother_ , was holding her hand tightly.

"I see..." replied an insecure tone.

It was just somewhat off-putting to watch them, to _spy_ on them like that from a seemingly innocuous car. She knew it had been her idea, she knew she had personally asked him to investigate them, she knew it was for a good cause, she knew _all that_...

But it still didn't make the whole deal any less uncomfortable for her, especially while keeping in mind her own past experiences. In a way, she was truly intending to do the same that had been done to her before, she was inches away of bursting their safety bubble and forcing them to dig up some horrible, scarring memories.

Granted, she was more blissfully unaware back then, but still...

_Still..._

She pressed her hands against her lap as the happy little family crossed the street. The child was laughing, the mother was laughing, the father...

Well, he was smiling quietly, but they were all still happy. Still living peacefully.

"So..." resumed Douglas, noticing her conflicted silence "Do you still wanna talk to them, or should I...?"


	2. Null

"No. You shouldn't." she sentenced, removing the cigarettes from the conveyor belt.

Which wasn't precisely acceptable of her to do, but she didn't care. This wasn't just a random customer, it was someone she had known for a while. She had the _right_.

"Oh, _come on_..." protested the someone in question, a young man with a visibly dejected expression "Like you don't smoke yourself-"

"Not _this much_ , that's for sure!" she scoffed, crossing her arms "It's the _third_ packet this week, Cain. If you wanna kill yourself, fine, but I'm not helping you out with it."

An awkward pause followed, during which he just looked away sulkily, but also with a slight trace of shame.

_I_ _t's not like that_ , he thought.

And then almost said it, but she sighed before giving him the chance, in a possibly regretful manner.

"Look, I get it... okay? I know shit's been stressful and you're just coping." she said, with a certainly softer tone "But this isn't gonna do any good in the long run, it'll just eat you away, man!"

He kept averting his sulky gaze for a few more minutes.

" _I know._ " he replied, closing his eyes in a fleeting pained gesture, and _then_ looking back at her "I guess I just- I haven't had time to worry about _that_ in particular."

Making her frown quizzically.

"What _is_ it, anyway? What's getting you so worked up?" she inquired, while remembering to actually do her job and put the rest of his purchase into a paper bag.

It was paper, right? Had he said paper?

Well, whatever. He had now.

"It's... It'd be _a lot_ to talk about, Laura, I wouldn't..." he fumbled, a hand idly travelling across his dark fringe "I don't wanna just pour it all on you..."

But Laura didn't seem too bothered by that prospect. In fact, she didn't seem bothered at all.

"My shift ends in ten minutes." she stated, opting to conveniently skip the whole part where she couldn't care less about how tedious it could get.

She still wouldn't care about any of that, because it was still someone she had known for a while.


	3. Lost Days

It was nearly eight o'clock. There were still balloons and streamers all over the apartment, even though most of the guests had already left.

Only one remained, a boy who lived in that same building and therefore had no issue with staying for a little longer. Which perhaps meant that the party was technically still going.

"Come on! Don't be lazy!" chirped the birthday girl, hastily dashing upstairs with a glistening object in a hand.

"Wait up, Heather!" called her father, dashing after her with the boy in tow "Don't go so fast, you're gonna trip!"

"Yeah, and then you're gonna fall on your face!" he added.

And while this boy was _positive_ he could catch up with her in a second, he didn't want to leave the poor old man behind, so he kept matching his pace instead.

Harry was a _cool_ old man, he really didn't deserve that.

"Honey...?" he pleaded, as they reached the end of the staircase.

"Over here!" she replied, from the middle of the rooftop.

She was raising the hand that was still holding the glistening object towards the sky. It was a pink wand, and it wasn't just glistening anymore. She was pressing a button to make its heart shaped top shine more blatantly, like a little lighthouse.

" _What_ are you doing?" inquired the boy, in utter confusion.

Heather chuckled.

"I'm calling the mothership!" she beamed, eyes lighting up with pure excitement.

Which only managed to confuse him even more.

" _Mothership?_ " he squinted, to then glance up at Harry "What is _she_ talking about?"

"Have you ever heard of aliens, Cain?" he asked, in a playfully cryptic manner.

"Of course he has!" chimed Heather, putting the wand down for a brief moment while turning to Cain "But I bet you don't know how to send them messages... I do because dad's super smart and showed me! Check it out!"

Then she put it back up, and started turning its heart shaped light on and off repeatedly, in some sort of sequence. If the boy had counted correctly, she did it a total of six times.

"That means hi." she explained, as Cain tilted his head with sparked interest "They can't see the messages if there's too many stars around though, you have to make sure it's cloudy, like _today_... Today's _very_ cloudy, isn't it?"

And now she was turning to her father, who had been smiling warmly the whole time, yet quickly realized how seriously she was taking this little adventure of hers.

"Oh, _yes_." he assented, upon taking a seemingly careful look at the sky " _Pretty_ cloudy indeed. They should _definitely_ pick something up today."

And then both children gasped ecstatically.

"I wanna do it!" squeaked Cain "I wanna say hi too!"

"Take dad's flashlight!" suggested Heather, and Harry promptly pulled it out of a pocket while stifling a bit of tender laughter.

Why was it even _there_ , though, at his immediate disposal?

Those who knew him to some degree would probably have assumed that it had to do with his 'worrywart' nature.

And, in a sense, they would have been right.

Cain just never gave it much thought.

"Six blinks, right?" he inquired, once again watching and then mimicking Heather's sequence with his borrowed light.

"Yeah!" she grinned "Like that, _yeah_! Now you're getting it!"

It just felt normal back then. Flashlights had always been a very customary thing for him, a very standard emergency thing.

"Looks like the mothership will be getting a lot of messages today!" laughed Harry.

It wasn't until his sudden demise that Heather began to carry a similar flashlight within her own pockets.

It wasn't until then that Cain began to question its significance.

"That was when things started getting rough..." he muttered, as the memory froze in that wistful frame, and then dissipated away like the sugar he had just added to his macchiato.

Laura had been observing him and listening attentively from the other side of the booth, so much that she almost lost track of her iced mocha.

"When she started dodging you...?" she inquired.

Cain nodded.

"I understood at first, though." he continued, after taking a pensive sip "She was having a hard time and I- I _tried_ to be there for her, but she didn't want that, she wanted space..."

And there was a little bit of apprehension underlining his words.

It wasn't difficult for Laura to promptly piece together the reason of his chagrin.

"So you gave it to her and then she bailed." she figured.

Cain couldn't help a sad chuckle under his breath.

"We talked a little for a while, but after she moved away I couldn't reach her anymore." he continued "But it's okay... I mean, I guess we weren't exactly the bestest friends, we just lived in the same place and went to the same school..."

"But you were still friends." replied Laura.

And her tone was so sharp, so brutally straightforward, that it made him seemingly sink into his seat.

"That's what I thought, at least..." he mumbled.

"So you must have..." she began, but then rephrased "You _still_ feel like it's your fault, don't you?"

Cain didn't answer to that one.

But he did look away just like before, and that was enough for her.

"It's not, Cain." she said "You did what you could."

And she knew she wouldn't change anything with that, that he probably had already heard it from a lot of people, but maybe...

 _Maybe_ it would still help as a sort of reminder.

"Did I?" he muttered, however, while gloomily looking back at her "Did I, really...?"


	4. Fortunate Sleep

"Yes, you did." she replied.

It was nearly eight o'clock and she was already up and examining the wall. Sliding a cautious hand across its grainy surface.

As if feeling around, searching for something.

"I know it's risky, but for now it's all I've got." she continued "You'll have to trust me..." _"_

_"And I do, Cheryl."_ replied Douglas, from the other side of the line _"I wouldn't trust anybody else when it comes to this business. I just..."_

And, by the looks of it, there wasn't anything wrong with said wall.

Yet, something about it was clearly bothering her.

"What? What is it?" she inquired, turning away to approach the dresser.

The phone sighed.

_"_ _Just take care of yourself. It's been like ten years of breaking your back for others, and I'm sure they appreciate it."_ he said _"But your life matters too. If something happened to you..."_

"I'd fight it out like I've done before." stated Cheryl, showing a bit of a smirk as she selected what to wear from the drawers "Listen, once I'm done with this I'll step out for a while. I promise. I just don't wanna leave it hanging any longer..."

She took a simple yellow shirt, a pair of jeans and then a jacket from the coat rack.

_"_ _You better."_ replied Douglas, more lightly but while still keeping some level of concern _"Is it the apartment? Have you seen anything around there lately?"_

"Not really, no..." pondered Cheryl, now sitting on the bed to put the jeans on "But I've been _feeling_ things, like- I don't know how to explain it, everything looks fine, but... you just can't _be_ there..."

_"Does your head hurt? Like back when-"_

"Oh no, definitely not." she reassured, now putting on her socks and then her boots "I just feel sick, like I'm gonna faint or throw up..."

Which wasn't precisely the best reassurance, but in her opinion it was still better than the otherworldly headaches.

_"_ _Alright..."_ continued Douglas, seemingly agreeing with that opinion, as she reached for the shirt _"Has anybody moved in?"_

"Some people's come to check it, but nobody stayed." answered Cheryl, now maneuvering to put it on without dropping the phone "I don't know if any of them got sick too, but... There's something in there. I can even feel it when I'm here at home sometimes, like it's seeping through. It's weak, but it's _there_."

Perhaps waiting. Or resting.

Either way, it was dormant. Alive, but dormant.

"And I have no idea of what it is, but I don't think I'd like to find out." she concluded "So I'm gonna hold it back while I can."

_"_ _With a little help from a fishy knick-knack."_ added Douglas, rather warily.

"It's not really _that_ fishy, you know. Not as long as someone sensible is using it, at least." replied Cheryl, now fully dressed and pulling out a box from a different drawer.

A locked box.


	5. Mistic Air

It was small, wooden, and always on the shelf.

Never to be opened.

Every once in a while, Laura would cast a fleeting glance at it, as if making sure it was still there.

 _"_ _What's with that box, anyway? What do you have in there?"_ asked her past self.

 _"_ _Ah, it's just some stuff I kept from the institute."_ replied the soft-spoken girl she was talking to.

_"...Why would you keep **anything** from the institute?"_

_"I know, I know... It's just difficult, I guess. I really want to forget about it, but there are some memories I actually... kind of like..."_

_"Huh..."_

_"So it's difficult to get rid of them. I will at some point though, just not yet."_

And how long had it been since then?

"Like ten years or so." replied Laura.

"Really?" piped that same soft-spoken girl, to then lower her voice despondently "That's a lot of time..."

She was sitting next to her. They were watching TV.

"Yeah..." replied Laura "I didn't have the guts to tell him, but I don't think she even remembers him anymore. She must have started a whole new life there, in that dullsville."

Someone was elaborating on the properties of some vegetable chopper on the screen. It was pretty late.

" _Ashfield_ , right?" inquired the girl, to then briefly shake her head "How sad..."

Laura shrugged, somewhat helplessly, and passed her the Ritz Bits they had been sharing.

"That's the way it goes." she said, in a noticeably jaded manner "The sooner Cain gets over it, the better."

He just had to stop getting moody whenever Heather's birthday was around the corner, which couldn't be too hard.

He could just overwrite old birthdays with new birthdays. Meet new people, make some new friends.

Some new good memories.

"It's still sad, though." replied the girl, ignoring the snacks "Losing a friend like that..."

Maybe that was why Laura had been looking at the locked box.

"See, that's the problem, Julia." she said "If you keep getting caught up moping over things you'll _never_ have again, you'll keep missing out on things you could be having _right now_. Both of you guys gotta stop crying over whatever you spilled."

Julia sighed quietly.

"I just feel bad for him, I mean, don't you?" she replied, turning to her "Don't you... think about Mary too, sometimes?"

And Laura knew.

Laura knew she would bring _that_ up. It was only logical.

So it didn't precisely take her by surprise.

"Of course I do." she answered, nonchalantly "But it's been _ages_ since I lost her and she won't come back, no matter how much I miss her."

"And that _doesn't_ upset you?" continued Julia, in apparent disbelief "Come on, Laura, you can't hold your feelings down _that well_..."

And that was so endearing, so adorably naive of her, that it made Laura smile slightly.

Bitterly.

"It takes practice." she said.

Making Julia clasp her hands together with a condolent frown, as if mentally praying for her soul.

Which only emphasized how innocent she was, and it made sense.

It actually made a lot of sense.

Only one year had passed since her escape from that place. That institute.

_One._

Clearly _nothing_ compared to the almost twenty years since Laura's own ordeal, not to mention the gap between Laura's seasoned twenty-five years of age and Julia's humble seventeen.

She still had a lot to process.

A lot to learn.

Laura had to be patient.

"Heather's not dead though, so I guess- _I guess_ there's _some_ hope for him." she concluded, rather reluctantly, while grabbing the remote from the table "Just don't worry about it, you'll hurt yourself."

Julia blinked away from the vegetable chopper, and gave her a bit of a dreary look.

"Noted." she replied, as Laura changed the channel.


	6. Rising Sun

_"Even though there haven't been any more disappearances since the 2001 incident, from which no further information could be recovered, other disturbing occurrences have been reported throughout the following years."_ stated an ominous narrator, as the camera graciously panned across the old building's exterior.

And boy, was it creepy looking. Always had been.

Laura grimaced.

She _knew_ something was up with it.

 _"Residents and visitors alike have allegedly seen and heard things that, according to them, could only have come from their very own nightmares..."_ continued the narrator, as she turned to Julia to see her reaction, and caught her fearfully clutching a cushion into her chest.

" _That's_ where Heather's living...!?" she muttered, in a naturally horrified manner.

"And it's not even pretty." replied Laura, more casually, to then eat another Ritz Bit.

 _"Ghostly presences, demonic entities and other aberrations have been described, all traced back to Room 302. A few spiritual mediums have claimed to experience severe headaches and even chest pain as well, after spending less than a day in the apartment."_ continued the narrator, from a different television, and the camera cautiously offered a _very_ quick shot of said apartment's front door.

"Would you look at that..." commented Cheryl, raising an eyebrow from her bed "Guess I wasn't exaggerating after all."

 _"It goes without saying that it remains uninhabited to this day, and firmly established as a haunted location."_ continued the narrator, from yet another television _"Our mediums have also suggested that this curse of sorts could be slowly spreading, and reaching into the neighboring apartments of the third floor."_

Cain frowned suspiciously, while leaning against the couch and petting a sleepy German Shepherd.

 _"Which, considering the fact that most of the mentioned testimonies have effectively come from the third floor, could be more than just a possibility."_ continued the narrator, as shots of grungy hallways were shown _"This could be already happening..."_

And now the television was bigger, and surrounded by framed photographs.

"You were right, Bob..." whispered a rather young viewer "This is bad..."

And it was way past her bedtime, but that was evidently the least of her worries.

 _"Are these the foundations of a new Silent Hill? Are the roots of the tainted town truly branching out towards other places? Dragging them along into the fog...?"_ inquired the narrator, accompanied by one last exterior shot.


End file.
